White Lily by Ting-Xing Ye Read Free Book Online Page B

today,” her mother replied. “Some traditions don’t make sense, and this is one of them,” she continued. “On the day you were born, the tenth of July, you were considered to be one year old. Seven months later, when the New Year arrived, you became a year older like everyone else, so you turned two. But in fact —”
    “In fact,” White Lily interrupted, “I was only seven months old.”
    Mother responded with a weak smile. “And he’s also right that you’re still a little girl.”
    “But that’s not what Father said. He is going to let me sit with the rest of the family and the guests at the New Year dinner tonight. You told me last year that it is a treat only for grown-ups,” White Lily said cheerfully as she pictured herself seated at the grand, vermilion-painted table. It was an event that she had been awaiting for years.
    Many times in the past she had sneaked into the storage room in which the huge tabletop leaned against the wall, a dustcover draped over it. On each occasion, White Lily would lift the corner of the drapery and stroke the glossy surface of the table with her palm, or admire her own reflection. She was sure that the perfect, round tabletop was even wider than the lily pond at the back of the courtyard; and she was equally certain that from now on she would be happy because she was no longer a child.
    During the meal, as servants scooted to and fro with plates of savory stewed chicken, roast duck, steamed fish, stir-fried vegetables, and heaping bowls of rice, she even escaped the usual warningsfrom Nai-nai and her father not to eat and talk at the same time.
    No one can sit still on occasions like this, surrounded by so many people and so much delicious food, White Lily assured herself. Across the table, her father, Nai-nai, the merchant and his wife — her future father-and mother-in-law — chatted and laughed as they plied their chopsticks and tipped their wine cups.
    But something was wrong with her mother, White Lily noticed. All through the meal — no, all through the day, she recalled — Mother had been unusually quiet. Now she seemed sad.
    “Is Mother ill?” White Lily whispered to Fu-gui.
    “Not really,” he answered without looking at her.
    “Then you know. Why don’t you tell me?”
    “Keep your voice down, White Lily,” Fu-gui hissed. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

4
    D arkness fell. After the guests had left, the house grew quiet. White Lily sat up in her bed, too excited to sleep. If only each day were New Year’s Day , she wished. If only I could be this happy always!
    Silently, her bedroom door opened. Mother hobbled in, holding between her hands a red wooden basin, a wisp of steam clouding above it.
    “Mother, what’s the hot water for?” White Lily asked as Nai-nai, too, entered the room, a bundle of white bandages tucked under her arm and a low stool in one hand. As her mother put the basin down on the floor, in front of White Lily’s bed, tears rolled down her cheeks, like pearls from a broken necklace.
    White Lily’s cheerfulness evaporated like thesteam that hung over the basin. “Mother, is something wrong?”
    Nai-nai spoke, her voice quaking hoarsely. “My dear White Lily, come, come and sit on this stool. It’s time … time …”
    “Time?” White Lily stammered. “Time for what?”
    But no one answered. Instead, Mother tenderly pulled off White Lily’s socks and guided her feet into the warm water. White Lily stared wide-eyed at the blankness on her mother’s face. Her mouth opened and closed but not a word came out. The silence began to frighten her. It’s New Year , White Lily thought. So why is Mother weeping, as if somebody died?
    “Don’t be afraid,” Nai-nai murmured, firmly gripping one of White Lily’s legs under her arm. One by one she started folding White Lily’s four small toes under, until they pointed along the curve of the sole, until they touched the heel.
    “Grandma! That hurts!” White Lily gasped as